


Bane of Hereafter

by Jukeboxbutton



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Drama, To Be Continued, date rape drugs, implied rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jukeboxbutton/pseuds/Jukeboxbutton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Case closed - and it's not in the SVU team's favor. When Barba finds himself walking that extra block over to a bar to avoid his colleagues, he ends up with some unusual company instead. The next morning he wakes up knowing something bad has happened - more than the obvious. It's not until a few months later is it revealed to him just how much that night will impact his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"On the charge of rape in the third degree, we find the defendant, Sean Marbo, not guilty."  
With his eyelids fluttering shut and his lips pursed, the feeling of defeat washed over the ADA's face. All this time spent working on this case - wiped away before his mind could even process it. Slowly, he began packing his things.  
"New York State thanks you for your service. Mr. Marbo, you're free to go." The judge declared, his gavel pounding in dismissal.  
All of their hard work and time had been completely wasted. Now with growing frustration, the ADA stuffed his files into his briefcase and turned on his heel to leave. Before he could take a step, his face met the Sergeant's.  
"Olivia." He addressed feebly, his lips tightly pressed together.  
"Barba," Olivia shook her head, "you did well. It's not your fault."  
"This was a tough rape case. But it shouldn't have been a pull-things-out-of-your-ass case. It was completely unethical for the judge to allow him to use those text messages against us." Barba noted crisply, glancing over at the defendant and his lawyer as they exchanged handshakes.  
"You did your best, counselor." Olivia patted his shoulder. He could tell she was disappointed in the verdict just as much as he was. There was nothing they could do about it now. The two of them watched as a now free man walked out of the courtroom shackle-free with his lawyer, both beaming with their accomplishments over the law.  
"I need some air." Barba declared suddenly, heading towards the door. Olivia tailed behind him closely, asking him questions about how the defense had gotten away with such a ludicrous plan.  
"I don't know." Barba finally answered, sounding more irritable than the sergeant was used to hearing him. There was no reason he couldn't have won this case. Looking over into the crowd, he saw the victim, a nineteen year old college student walking down the cement steps. Her face was somber and Barba felt guilt rise up in his throat.  
"I need a drink." He cut Olivia off, frowning as he itched his ear and turned away from the crowd. The reporters began their attempts to hassle the victim and her family, asking for comments on the verdict.  
"Need company?" Olivia asked him quietly, sensing his guilt.  
Barba shook his head, "I think I got this one. I'll see you tomorrow."  
Olivia stood with her hands shoved into her coat pockets, thinking deeply as she watched the ADA walk off into the late afternoon sidewalk traffic. Something wasn't right about all this. 

•||•

"Scotch, please. No ice." Rafael waved two fingers to the bartender, taking a seat at the farthest stool. A moment later, his scotch was in front of him and he took a sip. He never knew why he enjoyed the feeling of burning liquids slipping down his throat. Perhaps it was the after effect. The peace. 

This wasn't the bar Barba usually frequented. This is the bar he would walk that extra block over just to make sure he didn't run into anyone he knew. Tonight's environment had a different atmosphere to it though. Even so, the regular customers were still haunting the small room. There was Lenard at the end of the bar, still grieving over the loss of his wife with a bottle of Jack Daniels. And Trisha, the family court social worker, filling out paper work in the corner with her beverages already ringing up a tab. All aware of the others presence, but no one acknowledging each other. 

Behind him, lawyers and businessmen started joining the crowd. By their sly glances around the room, Barba could recognize they were just out looking for a good time before heading home to prepare for another day at the office. Women in tight dresses and bare legs began flowing in to the dimly lit bar right after the gentlemen. Internally, he debated on whether these men should be even called gentleman when he realized what they were really looking for. 

A half hour passed. Maybe an hour. He wasn't really keeping track. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his fellow lawyers hooking their arms around these beautiful women, charming them and buying them drinks only to take them home to bed and never speak to them again.  
The effects of his second drink were beginning to set in, and before he knew it he was raising two fingers to the bartender for another. A moment passed and his scotch was in front of him, just as he liked it. He thought about the case a little more as his finger traced the rim of the glass. He thought about what he could have done differently to make the jury be on their side. Was it a lack of evidence? Was it his witnesses? Or had he not presented his case well enough?  
"Is this seat taken?"  
Rafael lifted his head up from his drink, the room moving a little slower than normal. Before he could respond, a petite red haired woman was seating herself beside him.  
"I-uh... No. It's not." He finally responded.  
"What are you drinking?" She asked him, her voice bubbly and cheerful - strange for this time of night.  
"Scotch." Rafael didn't bother looking at her as he took another sip, downing his third tumbler. He didn't feel like trying to entertain anyone.  
"Martini." She called out to the bartender, waving her manicured fingers.  
He glanced over at her as she arranged her purse in her lap. She was attractive, he noted to himself. But she wasn't breathtakingly beautiful either. Her eyes were a little too far apart, and her nose a little too turned up. But who was he to judge, he thought.  
She looked over at him and smiled, revealing perfectly straight teeth. She looked half his age.  
"Tough day?" She asked him, reapplying her lipstick.  
Barba shrugged, looking back at the three empty tumblers in front of him.  
"What was your first guess?" He responded with a sarcastic smile.  
Her martini came and she took a sip, leaving lipstick stains on the glass.  
"My name is Claire." She turned to him and extended her hand.  
"Rafael." He shook her hand half heartedly.  
"Are you alright?" She asked him, leaning forward. "Need someone to talk to?"  
"I-... No. I'm alright. Thank you." He responded, smiling to be polite.  
"You sure? I've been told I'm a good listener." She smiled. "Your day must have really sucked if you are on your third scotch."  
He smiled down embarrassingly at his glasses, hoping the bartender would come fetch them soon.  
"It was just a long week." He told her.  
"I gathered that." She laughed. "Tell me about it. I can listen."  
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but suddenly the words were flowing from his mouth before he could stop them. Internally, he was telling himself to shut up. His day was none of her business, but he felt compelled to talk about it.  
"That must be hard." She sympathized with him. Her long fingers twirled the tooth pick in her drink around in circles. "With all those cases, I mean. Emotionally it must take a toll on you, no?"  
Barba shrugged his shoulders again, beginning to feel his face get warm. He stripped himself of his vest, hanging it over the back of the bar stool with his jacket. He noticed she kept glancing behind his shoulder. He turned around for a moment, but only saw a group of men. He shrugged it off.  
"Yes and no. You have to grow a skin for these things. Rapes happen. Murders happen. It's apart of society. We're the people who have to put those on criminals behind bars. It's just not always that easy."  
"What's it like to be a lawyer?" Claire inquired. She turned her bar stool towards him, crossing her bare legs. Her foot bobbing as she took another sip of her drink.  
"Difficult." He said, still staring at his empty glasses with elbows both balancing on the bar. "I'm the assistant district attorney for the Manhattan Special Victims Unit."  
"Oh! Interesting!" She beamed behind her drink. "Law school?"  
"Harvard." He responded.  
"I wish I had furthered my education." She told him longingly.  
"You still could." He reminded her, uninterested.  
"Oh no. I'm content with my career." She smiled. Her eyes flickered behind him again.  
"Your friends?" Barba asked, his thumb jerking to the group of men who were laughing loudly.  
"Oh, no. Not really. I know a few of them from here. I'm just being nosey." She smiled at him, touching his arm.  
The music was getting louder in the background, he noted to himself. How long had he been sitting here? He lifted his sleeve for the time and his eye sight blurred for a moment before he recognized that it was nearing ten o'clock.  
"Have to get home to your wife?" She asked him. He couldn't tell if she sounded genuinely disappointed or was just playing with him.  
"I'm not married." He almost laughed at himself.  
"No? No Girlfriend waiting at home for you?" She smiled, poking his shoulder. It has been quite awhile since he had had a woman be so flirtatious towards him.  
"No. Just my bed." He tried to smile at his poor joke. "I should get going."  
"You should stay a little while longer." She told him quietly, touching his arm.  
"I have an early morning tomorrow. I really should-"  
"One more drink?" Claire asked him, her bottom lip turning into a small pout.  
Barba looked at her. She had deep set blue eyes and her smiling was growing on him. It had been a long time since he had a females company that weren't his coworker.  
"All right." He agreed, placing his jacket back on the barstool. "One more. But I have to run to the men's room first."  
She beamed at him. "Oh good. I'll be waiting."  
Barba eyed her and she continued to smile at him. A few minutes later he found himself pushing his way back through the crowd to find his open chair still waiting for him. In front of his seat was another scotch.  
"I took the liberty of buying you another drink." Claire smiled, pushing the scotch towards him with her slender finger. "I hope you don't mind."  
Barba looked at the drink hesitantly. He took a seat and glanced over at Claire, who was leaning in towards him with her chin in her palm. She smiled.  
"I- uh... that's fine. Thank you." Barba finally said. The music in the background changed to something slower. Claire was still staring at him. He was getting self conscious and a little annoyed.  
"You're handsome." She told him, watching him as he took a sip of his drink. He felt the heat rising up his neck as he placed the glass back down.  
"I-... Thank you." He smiled over at her genuinely, feeling embarrassment but still flattered. He didn't know what to say.  
"You're rather attractive yourself." His lips tipped up at one corner as he took another sip. Her smile grew.  
Barba started to admire her, her assets growing on him. She wasn't as unappealing as she was when she had sat down. Her tight thighs were crossed, her skirt hiked up a little higher than he normally would had found tasteful. But still, he wasn't interested in sexual relationships at this point in his life. Especially with someone who was young enough to be his daughter.  
"Tell me about yourself." She smiled, her chin still in her palm.  
"What do you want to know?" He countered, playing along.  
"Anything." She smiled. "Do you have any brothers or sisters? Did you grow up around here?"  
"Well, I'm an only child. My parents-... Are divorced. I grew up in Queens in a not so nice neighborhood. I -"  
"Do you speak Spanish?" She beamed.  
"Sí hablo españo, mi hermoso."  
She let out a little girlish squeal. He smiled, thinking how cute that was.  
"Speak more." She said. "Teach me."  
He had heard her voice, but suddenly his ears felt plugged. The room felt like it was pulling him down to the ground. He rubbed his eyes.  
"Well-... I -... I- uh." He started but he suddenly couldn't find the words. Where was his tongue? Everything felt like it was underwater. He felt the urge to panic but he didn't have the energy. His whole body felt fatigued.  
"Are you alright, Rafael?" She leaned forward, placing a manicured hand on his forearm. He felt hot. His neck sweating.  
"Yeah, I -uh. I'm fine. I should get home." He said, rubbing his eyes with this two fingers.  
"Aww," she pouted. "Here let me help you."  
She took his arm and got down off the chair, grabbing her belongings as well as his.  
"You're just extra tired from all the alcohol." She told him, smiling as she steered him towards the door. She looked back at the guys again before they reached the exit.  
If he wasn't so tired, he would be refusing to have this strange woman take him home. What was wrong with him so suddenly? Had she put something in his drink? No, she couldn't have, he mused. But he didn't feel right. Everything was in slow motion. He had never been drugged before. How could he tell? Maybe something was wrong. He needed to get home. Or to call Liv.  
He shoved his hand in his pants pocket and took his phone out. His hands were shaking so much that it slipped from his fingers and smashed on the ground before he could get a handle on it.  
"Oops." Claire said, she leaned down to pick it up. "Let me get that for you. I'll take care of this for you." She stuck it in her purse before he could find the words to protest.  
His feet shuffled against the sidewalk as she pushed him into a cab a moment later. His body felt so happy to be sitting. He immediately wanted to fall asleep.  
"Hey, tell me where you live." She whispered to him. He mumbled his address to her, his chest rising rapidly. It was difficult to breathe. In the front seat, the cab driver looked in the rear view mirror, his eyebrow twitching at them.  
"He's just tired." She explained to the young man. "Long day, isn't that right, honey?"  
Barba let his eyes close. He was too tired to feel worried, but he knew he was in a bad situation. He tired to stay awake, but his eyes were so heavy. A moment later, he felt Claire jerking him awake.  
"C'mon." She told him, her friendly demeanor gone. "We're here."

•||•

He was dreaming. There was a weight on top of him; hips grinding against his. It was a woman and she was moaning so loudly he could have sworn it was real. Her hands were rubbing his bare chest as her hips lifted and fell back onto him. A panic shifted through him as he realized he couldn't move his body. But he was dreaming, he reasoned with himself. It felt so real... So ....  
Suddenly he felt his body go rigid and a moan escape his lips. 

The pleasure woke him and his eyes fluttered open. They felt heavy and his vision was blurred. He saw a muddy outline of bright red and a weight lifting off him. The morning sun light streamed in through his curtains. Everything felt sore.  
"Shh..." He felt two fingers on his lips. "Go back to sleep."  
His body ached and his eye lids were heavy again. She touched him and he groaned. Everything was sore. His breathing shallowed and before he could try any harder, he had fallen asleep once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  
10:32 am.   
Rafael sat on the floor of his bathroom in just his boxers. He had been vomiting since he had gotten out of bed this morning. His head was pounding and his body felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds.   
"Oh god, help me." He groaned, resting his head on the toilet seat, his gold chain clanking against the porcelain. He couldn't catch his breath. The morning sunlight slipped in through the window, casting a strip of light to warm his body. He felt like he had the flu. He tried to remember what had happened last night. Strips of memory flashed in his mind, but nothing concrete. He remembered that he had been drinking, and there was a woman. He remembered waking up briefly this morning, seeing that same woman and her red hair moving fluidly around the room. Had he dreamed it all? Obviously not, he thought to himself. How could he end up like this, hunched over the toilet? This wasn't your ordinary hang over.   
Barba slowly stood up from the floor, holding on to the sink and the walls as he moved back into his room. He needed to call Olivia and tell him he wasn't coming in. His hands slid against the walls, trying to keep his balance. Everything hurt, and his legs felt like jello.   
When he reached his room, his cellphone wasn't sitting in the spot on his night stand where he would normally put it. Panicking, he turned the sheets upside down. It wasn't anywhere in his room.  
Where his phone normally lay was a wrinkled piece of paper with flowing cursive hand writing.   
'Thanks! -Claire xoxo'   
Barba shook his head, trying to remember. It was all real.   
The wicker trash bin sat next to the bed and he glanced in there to check for his belongings. A quick thought passed his mind as he remembered waking up this morning to a woman grinding her hips against his - there was no condom in the trash. He looked in the drawer of the dresser and underneath his law book were the three condoms he left in there just in case - unopened.   
His wallet sat on the dresser with its contents upside down. When he reached it, the inside leather was empty. He had been robbed too?   
"Fuck." He swore to himself. His credit card was gone too. How did this happen? Suddenly, he felt another wave of nausea hit him, his stomach churning and he quickly made it back to the bathroom. Whatever was left in his stomach was emptied into the porcelain, burning the contents of his throat.   
At the front door of his apartment, he heard a soft knock on the wood followed by the creaking of it opening. Was it not locked? He was too tired to even care at this point. Everything was a mess due to his poor decision making.   
"Barba?" Olivia's voice rang through his empty apartment. Her voice sounded concerned and curious at the same time. They must be wondering where I am, Barba thought to himself. He hadn't called his secretary, and his phone wasn't around for anyone to reach him. He tried to remember where he had left his phone but all he remembered was a manicured hand picking it up off the sidewalk and slipping it in her purse. He swore to himself as the memories pieced themselves together in his mind.   
Outside the bathroom two sets of foot steps clicked on the wooden floor. He groaned, his stomach growling as he clutched his bare flesh. The room was spinning. How could he have been so stupid to accept a drink from a stranger? He felt dirty, thinking of this morning.   
"Barba?" Amaro's voice echoed the sergeant's, opening doors in his apartment to check for him. As the footsteps grew louder, he found himself becoming less in touch with reality. His eyesight was blurring again. Finally, he recognized Olivia reaching the bathroom door.   
"Barba?" She quickly knelt down next to him. "Amaro! He's in here! What happened?"   
She looked at him, touching his face as he leaned against the wall. He shook his head, feeling his vision going dark. A cold sweat engulfed his skin. He could feel the blood rushing away from his head, his ears ringing.   
Olivia patted the side of his face, calling his name. He heard her call to Amaro for an ambulance.   
"Rafael!" She called his name. "Hey! Rafael! Stay with me. Hey. Stay with me, Barba-..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More soon :) CC is welcome <3


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr. Barba had very high levels of Rohypnol in his blood stream." Doctor Murphy informed Olivia. "As you know I'm sure, Rohypnol is a dangerous drug. It's typically used as a -"  
"Date rape drug." Olivia finished the resident doctors sentence. She felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. Thinking back, she remembered their conversation yesterday.   
"I've got this one." He had told her when she asked to join him. "Thank you."  
"So, could he have been-...?" Olivia began, her eyebrows knitting together.   
"Well, this drug typically can incapacitate the victim anywhere from 8 to 12 hours. And judging by the alcohol content in his blood stream, as well as bruising on his genitalia... it is likely that he did have sexual relations. Whether it was unwanted is debatable."   
"He was drugged." Olivia said defiantly. "His stance in the law system is too high risk for him to do something like this on purpose. It's very clear that someone slipped him something."   
"What people do in their free time is none of my business, Sergeant. My job is to keep them alive and healthy." Doctor Murphy told her. "But you may ask him yourself. He should be awake."

•||•

"Barba?" Olivia walked into Rafael's room hesitantly. She found him sitting up on the edge of his bed in the same clothes she left him in, staring at the linoleum floor.   
"I brought you some sweat pants from your apartment." Olivia placed them at the end of the bed and took a seat opposite of him. She waited a moment, hoping he would say something. But her friend remained silent.   
"Barba?" She leaned forward as she spoke his name and finally he looked up. The creases in his face seemed as if they had grown deeper and the bags under his eyes were darker - all in just twenty-four hours. He looked older, worn out.   
"What happened?" She shook her head, asking him a simple yet huge question.   
"I don't know." His voice cracked. Where was his trademark attitude he always strode around with? His arrogance he tried to deny? This surly wasn't the king of the courtroom she knew so well.   
"The doctor informed me you had traces of Rohypnol in your system."   
She didn't have to explain what a date rape drug was to him. She didn't have to explain what this meant or if he knew how it had gotten into his system.   
Olivia paused a minute, waiting for Rafael to open up and tell her what happened. It felt like every ounce of experience she had with victims went out the window when it was about her friend - her male friend. She didn't want to hurt his pride and she wasn't completely sure if he was ready to open up.   
"I went to the bar. A different bar down the street from where we normally go." Barba began, his voice was hoarse. He scratched his chest under his cotton t-shirt, his fingers brushing his chain. He swallowed. "And, I just sat by myself for about an hour and all these pig lawyers started coming in with their trophy girlfriends. And this girl started talking to me. She... She had red hair and - ... I'm just so fucking pissed, Liv. What kind of a person drugs someone and robs them?"   
Olivia hesitated, watching Barba as his fingers gripped the beds edge.   
"I think she did more than that Barba. Your things can be replaced but-"  
"My masculinity can't?" Barba snapped. "I know what you're thinking. It's -... She didn't rape me. I probably was too sloshed and let her into my apartment. It's my fault."   
"Barba, listen to me. She drugged you. She brought you back to your apartment and had sex with you while you were passed out. Thats-"  
"That's not-... No. Just no. I wasn't raped. I don't want to do a rape kit. I don't need counseling. It was just a bad night out. I have to get back to work, I don't have time for nonsense. I don't even know what her whole name is. I don't know anything about her. And I don't need to be one of your victims." He got up off the bed and his knees locked below him. He grabbed on to the bed and sat back down.   
"Barba," Olivia began softly, trying to calm him.   
"You were assaulted. The doctor said your body shows signs of sexual assault. You weren't awake for it, Barba. She intentionally drugged you to have sex with you.You can't let her get away with this."  
"Yeah that will be a great headline in tomorrow's New York Post." Barba retorted. "Just drop this, Olivia. Please. Im not one of your victims."   
Olivia closed her eyes in frustration, rubbing her knees. "Fine." She said. Barba watched her and she stood up. She held his shoulder and their eyes met each other. He looked worn, she thought. She knew he was bothered by his situation, even if he wouldn't admit it.   
"You know where to find me if you need me."


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back!  
> Sorry it took me so long to continue this story. I went through kind of a dry period where I forgot about this fic for awhile during the summer. But now I'm back!  
> Enjoy!

“Mami, listen to me.” It was two days later the whole incident occurred. Barba sat behind his desk; the stacks of paper work on either side of his elbows were threatening to topple over on him as he wove his pen between his fingers.  
“Rafi,” His mother spoke softly. “Why were you in the hospital? The paper said you had some kind of drug in your system. Do you have a problem? Should I come there?”  
“Mami, please.” Rafael put his pen down. He stared at some legal letter in front of him that required his signature. He had read it three times, but none of it could penetrate his haunted thoughts. His mind was somewhere else. Finally, he flipped it over and leaned back in his chair.  
“I’m fine.” He continued. “I was just-… I was just at a bar and I picked up the wrong drink. There was something in it and I guess-”  
His mother cut him off with a string of Spanish anger.  
“Mami, please.” He hated the fact that he had to plead with his mother to leave him alone while he was at work. He could understand her concern, but now just was not the time to talk about this. Or ever, if it were up to him.  
“I can’t talk about this right now. I’ll call you tonight.” Quickly, before she could object, he pressed the receiver down and hung up the phone. The phone rang again and Barba aggressively jabbed the transfer button to his secretary.  
“I can’t do this today.” He said to himself. Standing up, he walked over to the fake fireplace and stood there. He stared down at his hands, not feeling like they were his. His skin felt dirty. The doctors told him that he might not want to go back to work so quickly, but Barba refused to listen. How could he not go back to work? How could he take time off from being the assistant district attorney?  
Above the fireplace was an ornate piece of metal, decorated to look like a copper mirror. Leaning against the fireplace, he could see his reflection in the copper metal. Barba grimaced at himself. He always had confidence, after all growing up in the parts he grew up in with the short stature he had, the only way to survive was to have confidence in yourself. Of course, he had his friend Alex to help him when his mouth traveled too far, but he always thought highly of himself. Now? He felt disgusting.  
The night he got home from the hospital was a long one. He changed the sheets of his bed, and even took the comforter off and replaced it with a plain blanket. After much tossing and turning, he ended up retiring to the couch just to get away from his own bed. He felt tarnished – not himself. Is that how he was supposed to feel after sleeping with a woman? She was attractive, after all. He should feel pleased that he had the opportunity to sleep with such a specimen. Nevertheless, the fact that he was not awake did not sit with him well. The fact that she had stolen from him and drugged him- he tried not to think about those things because that would make him a victim. And Rafael Barba was not a victim.  
Yet, these facts couldn’t seem to leave his mind. What did this woman want so badly that she could not have gotten by just simply asking? It was not as if Rafael wasn’t a red blooded male. He might have said yes to taking her home.  
She probably wanted him for his money, he thought almost sadly. He should have never told her what his occupation was. He should have told her he was a chauffer or something… But a chauffer couldn’t afford a nice suit like the one he was wearing.  
“Mr. Barba?” He jumped, startled by the voice behind him. It was his secretary, Bernadette.  
“I’m sorry to startle you.” She was a mousy young girl, maybe in her early twenties. “But you have a phone call on line one.”  
“Can you take a message?” He asked, surprised at the weakness in his voice.  
Bernadette looked at him as if he were a fragile old man. Her thick brow knitted together in a frown. “They said it was urgent.”  
Barba nodded and shooed her away with his hand as he answered the phone.  
“Barba, it’s Detective Rollins. We have some new evidence on the Ripley case that might interest you. Natalie Ripley is here.”  
Barba looked at his watch, trying to think of an excuse. He didn’t want to do this today. He was too tired and too worn. At least he could recognize that this was not like him and pushed himself.  
“I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He finally said.  
~||~  
“What do we have?” Barba strode into the precinct with his coffee clutched tightly in his right hand, his brief case in the other.  
“Well,” Amanda started, “For starters Natalie finally decided to tell the truth about who raped her.”  
Barba closed his eyes in frustration. “So it wasn't Valente. What a great start to the week. What about the DNA? I thought it was a match.”  
“It was Valente’s father.” Fin declared from his desk. “That’s why the DNA matched. We got the tests in today. Definite match now.”  
“Why did she lie?” Barba fumed. “Why didn’t she just come clean to begin with?”  
“Liv’s in there now talking to her. You can go in.” Amanda told him. He began to walk away when she heard Fin call his name out before.  
“Barba… you okay, man? You look a little tired.”  
“When am I not tired, Detective?” He gestured to his coffee and turned back around to head towards Olivia’s office.  
Inside her office sat Natalie. From her records, she was 19 years old, Caucasian, and a high school drop out. Olivia introduced Natalie to him and they briefly shook hands.  
“Nice to finally meet you, Miss Ripley. Detective Rollins told me that there was some new information I should be aware of as your representative in the court room.”  
Natalie nodded her head shyly. He could tell he vaguely intimated her. They had never met, despite her client status with him. This case was still fresh.  
“Natalie, lets start at the beginning. Okay?” Olivia said. Barba hadn’t purposely ignored the sergeant. Actually, he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. But when he looked over at her now, he felt a wave of nausea over him. Like how he had felt when the found him on the bathroom floor a few days ago.  
Olivia had called him the next morning when she was sure he had settled back into his apartment. She asked him again if he wanted to file charges. They could find this woman and charge her with rape in the third degree. Barba retorted that he had probably consented to the sex, unfortunately he just could not remember. He knew deep down what that actually meant: that he hadn’t consented to the sex because he was under the influence of an alcoholic substance, or in his unknowing case, a controlled drug. Therefore, it was rape by the standards of the law. However, it wasn’t rape. He did not want to say it was rape. It was a bad night out. And he would like to leave it at that.  
“Barba?” Olivia spoke his name and he snapped back into the present. “What do you think?”  
Barba looked from Natalie to Olivia. He could feel his ears turn warm and his throat grow dry.  
He cleared his throat “Excuse me. I was going through my notes,” He lied.  
“Natalie was saying how she didn’t want to tell us about Mr. Valente Sr. because he is a family friend.”  
“My mother has been dating him for a little over 2 years, I think.” Natalie rubbed her arm. “He told me, that if I tell my mother or anyone, that he would put us back on the streets.”  
“And Valente Jr. He lives with you also?” Barba questioned.  
“That’s written the notes, if I’m not mistaken.” Olivia pointed out softly to him. He opened his file clumsily and nodded his head.  
“We’ve lived together for six months.” Natalie specified. “I still live at home due to my history of mental issues.”  
“Mental issues?” Barba asked, cocking his eyebrow.  
“I was diagnosed with schizophrenia when I was sixteen.” Natalie mumbled, picking at her fingernails.  
“Ah,” Barba nodded, irritated. “Is that the reason you didn’t come clean in the first place?”  
“I told you, I didn’t want to risk living on the streets again with my family. I have a 2 year old younger brother.”  
“And is this younger brother, is Mr. Valente Sr. the father?” Barba asked, flipping through the file. Natalie nodded her head.  
“Has Mr. Valente Sr. previously touched you in anyway? Acted inappropriately towards you?” Olivia asked Natalie, redirecting her attention.  
“Once, he came in my room while I was sleeping and was rubbing my back. I woke up and he stopped and said he was just checking on me. It was creepy…”  
Barba could feel Olivia glance over at him. She was expecting him to be so fragile after what happened. He wasn’t fragile. He wasn’t a victim. He wasn’t going to let this get in the way of his work. He wasn’t going to be “triggered” like she expected him to be.  
“And that’s what he did to you again? He raped you while you were sleeping?” Olivia asked.  
Natalie nodded her head. She seemed so young for her age. She looked maybe 14 years old. A tear slid down her girlish cheeks and she quickly rubbed it away with the palm of her hand.  
“I just woke up from the pain. I was asleep, and I felt this pain in between my legs. I couldn’t breathe and I opened my eyes and there he was. I almost threw up or or or yelled but when he saw I was awake he stuffed my sheet in my mouth.”  
The girl was now crying. Barba could feel the back of his neck become heated. He tilted his head to crack his neck and bounced his pen on the table. He felt these feelings. The feelings that were mirroring off what Natalie was saying. They were her feelings that were now engulfing him. Barba swallowed and could feel his ears being to burn.  
“He raped me, and then walked away and told me he loved me and to go back to sleep.” Natalie continued quietly through her labored breathing. “The next morning, he came in again and told me if I told anyone that he would commit me to a mental hospital because no one would believe someone who has my condition.”  
“And then what happened?” Olivia softly persisted.  
“He left a note on my nightstand saying that he loved me and to do the dishes. Like it was nothing.”  
Barba’s chair quickly screeched on the floor behind him as he stood up.  
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me.” He quickly rambled. He gathered his belongings and quickly left the office. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he didn’t know why. He had never felt this way before. Was he having a heart attack, he wondered to himself?  
Olivia looked at Natalie who was just as baffled by the situation.  
“Natalie, Detective Amaro will continue this, if that’s all right.” Olivia quickly expressed to the victim. She pointed to Amaro, looking at Barba as he entered the men’s bathroom out of the corner of her eye. “I just need a minute, okay?”  
Natalie nodded, curious about the counselor.  
~||~  
Inside the bathroom, Barba stood at the sink. He cupped his hands and moved the cold water up to his face. It trickled down onto his suit and tie. His vision was beginning to become blurred.  
“Barba.” Olivia swung the door open to find him at the sink. “What’s going on?”  
“Nothing.” Barba retorted quickly. He wiped his hands on his pants, the water on his face still dripping down his neck onto his collar. Olivia looked at him with despair in her eyes.  
“There’s nothing wrong, sergeant. It’s just hot in here.” He leaned himself against the sink to steady himself, hearing the blood rushing through his ears.  
“Counselor,” Olivia sighed. “You’re having a panic attack. You need to sit down. Drink some water. Come with me. Please.”  
“I’m fine, Liv.” Barba waved his hand, the other on his hip as he looked down at the sink. He lifted his hand to his chest. What had triggered this, he wondered? Just hearing the situation, living it, understanding it. He felt dirty again.  
“Barba,” Olivia whispered. “Please.”  
Barba closed his eyes, his hand on his hip. Finally, he nodded and took his things to her office.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter. It's more of a continuation of the last one.   
> Please R&R!  
> Constructive critisim is really appreciated!

“Tell me what’s going on.” Olivia sat down behind her desk, handing Barba a glass of water. Behind him, curious detectives were bobbing their heads up behind their computers to see what had happened to the smug counselor.  
“Nothing.” Barba muttered shaking his head, as he took small sips of his water. The color in his face was returning, but Olivia could still see her friend’s fingers trembling against the glass he was holding.  
“Barba,” Olivia began. “I know you’re a strong man.”  
She paused for a moment, watching him as he looked around the room as if he had never been here before.  
“Listen, what happened to you was wrong. But to put this behind you, you have to open up. Talk to me, Rafael.”  
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Barba replied. “I was not raped. I had sex with a woman I didn’t know. End of story.”  
“You weren’t awake.” Olivia corrected. “And you know, just as well as I do, counselor, that the law says that is rape.”  
Barba drummed his fingers against the glass on his lap. He took another sip, turning a blind eye to his friend.  
“Rafael,” Olivia leaned towards him, her eyes pleading. “This is impacting you whether you want to acknowledge that or not.”  
Barba looked up, his face turning hot.  
“I’m embarrassed.” He finally grimaced, admitting his feelings aloud for the first time. “I’m embarrassed that this made the paper. I am embarrassed of how ignorant I was and how I let something like this happen to me. I could have lost my job.”  
“Rafael, you could have lost a lot more than your job. You could have died if you had more of that drug in your system. You were in a dangerous situation, and you survived it. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”  
“Then why do I feel so humiliated?” Rafael exhaled. He stared at the ceiling of the sergeant’s office. “Why do I feel so emasculated?”  
“Because she took something from you that you didn’t even know could be taken, Barba.” Olivia explained softly. “She hurt you, whether you admit that to yourself at night or not. The reaction you had to Natalie’s statement is textbook for rape cases. It reminded you of how you lost your masculinity.”  
Barba closed his eyes, tapping his index finger against the edge of his seat. There were a few minutes of silence as Olivia tried to make eye contact with him. He persistently avoided her eyes, feeling them on him. He put his cup down on her desk.  
“I’ll be fine.” He finally spoke. He rubbed his knees and leaned forward. “I’ll be fine. I just need some time away.”  
“That’s a good idea.” Olivia nodded. “I’m sure your boss will understand.”  
Barba scoffed, leaning back in the leather armchair. “And tell him what? A girl I met at the bar drugged me and had sex with my incapacitated fat body?”  
Olivia paused, feeling sorry for her friend. “I’ll take care of it.”  
A few moments passed, before he lifted his emerald eyes and connected them with Olivia’s brown ones. Every ounce of strength he had left in him withered away and he finally agreed to let her help him.  
“Go home, Rafael. Get some rest.” Olivia ordered as she looked away from him and began moving things around on her desk.  
Rafael let a smile slip over his lips, “I don’t work for you, sergeant.”  
“I’m not saying that as a sergeant, Barba. I’m saying it as your friend.”  
Barba nodded his head, exhaling and feeling defeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon.  
> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
